Bite-Sized Bats
by The Brown-ie
Summary: [Corrected on 5/30/13] After a magical mishap, Batman has been miniaturized. Superman can't leave a friend in need, so he ask his wife for help.


**BITE-SIZED BATS**

In the depths of the Fortress, a young Sun-Eater unfurled an appendage in search of sustenance. Shyly, it inches toward familiar, gratifying warmth until it wrapped a tentacle around a miniature sun. Without warning, a piercing shriek rang out through the icy halls. Startled, the creature retreated into the depths of his tank; sun uneaten. The shriek continued to emanate (and seemed to increase in volume) from the bowels of the Fortress. And Superman was doing his best to quell its source.

"Kara! Calm down!" he pleaded in Kryptonian, trying to grab a hold of her as she ran to-and-fro around the conference table. "Calm yourself!"

"Oh, Kal! Can we keep him?!" she asked, eyes shining with hope.

"Young l-lady," Superman fumbled, his face completely pink. "Look, this isn't-"

"But he's so much better this way! He's so darling!"

"You're making him angry," he warned but she wasn't listening. Kara knelt down, eye level with the conference table, and gazed adoringly at a tiny, dark figure. There before them stood a shrunken Batman, no bigger than Kara's hand and looking like a daemon-fae.

"Get. Her. Away. From. Me," Bruce growled as he glared at her encroaching fingers. Or so he would have if he weren't so tiny. His voice sounded like Batman had gobbled a month's supply of helium balloons. Kara's eyes flew even wider and she let lose more delighted squeals much to her cousin's horror.

"How did this happen?" she struggled to compose herself. By Rao, she so desperately wanted to stroke Batman's mini cowl-ears.

Kal told her everything. The two heroes were answering a distress call from Jason Blood, who had been investigating deal between several magically charged maniacs. Unfortunately, Blood happened to be at Oblivion Bar when everything soured.

When they arrived, the brawl has spilled into the streets. Rogues were hurling drunken, ill-aimed hexes in every direction as ordinary people scrambled to get out of the way. It was their nightmare realized, since Bruce was never at ease with mystic arts and magic usually resulted in mind-controlled mayhem for Kal.

Superman searched for Blood while Batman called for back-up and helped people to safety. He found their friend - transformed into Etrigan and badly wounded. As he helped Blood to stand, Faust appeared before them; teeth gleaming like a starved wolf. He uttered some ominous, magical words and as he flicked his glowing hands in their direction, a black bulk shielded him from the spell.

"...and when it was over, we found him tangled in Banshee's hair." Kara's cheeks puffed, desperately trying to contain her laughter. Sighing, Kal pointed to the door. The girl scurried out, giggles trailing behind her. When they were alone, he carefully cupped Batman into his hands and raised him to eye level.

"How long?" Bruce growled (or so he seemed to).

"I'm so sorry." "HOW LONG?"

"B-Blood said t-three...days?" His friend narrowed his eyes. Superman paused, throat tight.

"M-maybe more like three...weeks."

Clark stared at his wife over the rim of his coffee mug. He had to admit that he married a really good woman. Lois was totally unfazed. She had seen and been through it all. Her personal favorite was the odd case of the green-furred monkey feet she had sprouted overnight. So, standing in the kitchen, having a stare-off with a bite-sized Bruce while eating a mixing bowl of Trix was simply "Monday morning."

"...and that's why we have to keep him here," he explained as she slurped up the last of her milk. "It's too dangerous for him to be left alone."

Lois raised her brow.

"I know, I know, Bruce is **Batman** but he's way too little to fight crime. And you know that's what he'll try to do if we take him back to Gotham."

"So, the butler and his entire brood are unavailable?" she asked, brows raised. "Vacationing; patrolling Gotham; Crazy; Off-Planet with Kon; Hong Kong; Mission with Oracle, who would put pictures on the Internet; has too many cats; and only 10 and too busy running a multinational conglomerate*. And they agree with me that we need to keep him here," Clark said as he gestured to their minuscule guest. But Bruce wasn't listening too closely. He was feverishly writing out contingency plans with the golf pencil Lois had given him.

"What about your 'Ma'?" Lois asked. Of course Martha had been happy to help. She even sewn little outfits for Bruce to wear! Lois smiled. He did look very cute in his flannel shirt and matching jeans.

Clark shook his head and sighed: "Krypto just tore apart Pa's thresher. And the roof off of the Jenkins' barn." "Well," Lois began slowly.

"I guess he can stay in my old Barbie Dream House."

The golf pencil clattered onto the floor. Bruce was listening now.

"W-what? No, Lois! I-"

"Do you know of a better place to put him?" she challenged. Clark looked ill but he bit his tongue. He couldn't afford to get on Lois' bad side at the moment. It was enough that Bruce was still annoyed with him.

"Keep your hands off of Skipper," she teased, tapping the crown of his tiny head. "She's barely seventeen." With a swish of her skirted hips, Lois grabbed her briefcase, kissed her husband goodbye and was out of the door. Bruce let out a long suffering sigh. It would be very long, very pink three weeks.


End file.
